by Amber Argyle
His shoulders stooped. “Sort of like your clannish belts.”
“Is that another thing you stole from the clanlands?”
He rubbed his hand across his bald head. “We had a truce, remember?” When she didn’t answer, he rested his head on the horse’s muscular neck. “You don’t understand, Elice. I’m trying to help you.”
“Help me?” she shot back. “Kidnapping me is helping me?”
“You don’t know what is at stake.”
“Even if the Sundering is real, kidnapping me is not going to stop it.”
Adar looked up at her. “You don’t know everything. And I cannot tell you all of it. But I have my reasons. If you believe nothing else, believe that.”
She wanted to scream at him. Hit him again. But her body trembled instead. Because she believed him. Or was starting to, at least. “All right,” she finally agreed. “I’ll—I’ll try.”
A smile spread across Adar’s face. “Good. Now, put your left foot in this stirrup, take hold of the horn, and pull yourself up into the saddle.” He demonstrated, and she moved to obey.
Seconds later, Elice sat astride Star. The ground was much farther away than she preferred.
Adar led the mare out of the stable, and Elice saw a dozen guards astride their own horses—all of them brown with black manes and legs. The guards wore loose trousers, robes, and headscarves. One of the men was leading another horse, larger than the one Elice was on. Adar mounted it and led the way across the courtyard, the horses’ hooves clacking against the flagstones. “A bailey,” Elice said, suddenly remembering. “I read about those in my books.”
Adar cocked an eyebrow at her. “The topics of your books seem oddly selective.”
She shrugged. “My mother chose them, so yes.”
The enormous gates were opened for them. Beyond were more, albeit smaller, palaces of stone. The city teemed with people, all of them wearing some form of trousers, with or without robes, and head coverings. They bowed when the troop passed. Her hand on her horse’s neck, Elice studied the people—men and women, young and old, rich and poor. There were so many of them, with more appearing to replace any that left her sight. She felt dizzy from the sheer number. She’d never known how vast mankind was.
Elice noticed the wonderful aromas long before she saw the market, with roofs of colorful canvas providing shade for the thousands of wares. She was overwhelmed with the sights and smells and colors and sounds—so much more than she’d ever dreamed of.
“If it’s too much, we can go back,” Adar said after a while.
“No,” Elice breathed. “I never want to go back.”
At that, his face lit up. He started buying her things—plums, pears, figs, meat skewered on sticks and covered in sauces. If he saw her eyes lingering on a bolt of fabric or a pot, he bought it, and the guards placed it in a cart they hired, pulled by a man in sturdy robes.
When they passed an especially fine building, Elice noticed something glittering inside. “What’s in there?”
Adar laughed. “You would notice the finest jewelry maker’s shop in all of Idara.” She blinked at him and frowned. He gestured to the cart. “Every item I’ve bought you, every single one, is the most expensive item to be found.”
She smiled a little. “Can we go inside?”
He motioned to two of his guards, who went in before them and cleared out the building. Adar helped Elice dismount from the horse, and she let him, glad of their little truce. Being cruel to him was exhausting.
When they entered the building, her mouth came open. On every surface were clusters of jewels like bits of colored ice. Cases held dozens of glittering rings, necklaces, broaches, pendants, and bracelets in every imaginable color.
The shop’s owner, a small man with stooped shoulders, bowed. “Prince Adar, I am most pleased to see you.” His gaze moved to Elice. “Come to the back room, my dear. For it is there you will find my most valuable treasures.”
He unlocked a door, and Elice followed him inside the small room. Here, the jewels were larger and more lustrous. She found herself handling the loose stones the most, as the shopkeeper put names to each and rattled off the details of their color and quality. Elice was entranced, until she came to the diamonds and opals—the same stones that her mother had set in her headdress.
She lifted a large opal and watched the colors trapped inside. Next, she picked up a diamond and watched the fire dance and flare within. Just like the prisms she made. Suddenly, Elice was struck with a homesickness so strong she thought it might kill her. She settled both stones back onto their velvet and turned her face to Adar.
“What did you do with the turquoise necklace?”
“I gave it to Sakari.”
Elice nodded, glad her friend had it. “I think our truce is over.”
“The lady does not wish to buy anything?” the shopkeeper asked, clearly disappointed.
Adar shook his head at the man, then led Elice back into the pounding sunlight. At that moment she realized her face and hands hurt and she was feeling ill.
A rush of movement made her turn to see a man dart around the guards. His eyes were calm and determined as he lifted a knife, arching it toward her. Adar hauled Elice back and stepped in front of her. His sword shot up, catching the man’s blade even as the man’s hand caught fire, blackening as Elice watched.
Before she could draw breath to scream, it was over. The guards took hold of the man’s arms and forced him to his knees. He spit at Elice. “The Winter Queen deserves to know how it feels to lose a child! Deserves to know what it feels like to have a piece of her soul torn away. To feel bloody and raw—” The man broke off into sobs.
Elice stared at him in horrified fascination. The guards looked questioningly at Adar, who nodded. He took hold of Elice’s shoulders and steered her toward the horses. Different guards converged around them, swords drawn.
She started to look back, but Adar held her more firmly. “Don’t.”
“Why?” Then she heard the singing of the sword. The man’s insults ended with a wet thump. “You killed him!” Elice gasped.
Adar helped her onto the mare. “Uncontestable murder, attempted murder, or rape is treated with immediate beheading in Idara.”
She couldn’t stop herself from glancing back and immediately wished she hadn’t. The blood and the neck stump would forever be burned in her memory. “What if he had escaped?”
Adar nudged his horse forward. “He would have been hunted down by the bounty hunters. They would only need to bring back his head to collect their money.”
Elice looked out over the crowd, noticing darkness and danger where before she’d only seen wonder and motion. “My mother warned me about the darkness of men.”
“I can’t deny it, Elly. But neither should you deny the light.”
“I’d like to go back to the palace now.”
They rode back in silence. Elice no longer watched the people or studied their wares. Adar prattled on about his other home in the Adrack, the rust-red cliffs and narrow canyons filled with turquoise water.
“What does it matter?” she finally asked. “I’ll never see it.”
He fell silent after that. Soon, the enormous gates of the palace swung open and the horses’ hooves rang off the flagstones. They reached the barn, where Adar helped Elice dismount. As her legs took her full weight, she groaned at the tenderness in her thighs and backside. After a moment, the stiffness faded and she walked awkwardly back into the sunshine. Once more she flinched at the strength of it. She didn’t have to be told to head back to her tower; in fact she was eager for it.
Adar walked beside her. “Why are you doing this?” she finally asked. “Why feign kindness anymore? You already have what you want.”
“Do I?” he said bitterly.
Elice glanced at him, wondering if he’d accidentally grown fond of her in their travels across the frozen wasteland of the Winter Queendom. “You didn’t answer my question.”
“I wa
nt you to experience the Summer Realm. I want you to have at least some good memories of this place—of me.”
She looked over his shoulder, at the gates she’d crossed through twice. With a start, she realized this was where her Uncle Bratton had died, before these very gates. This was where the first battle of the War of the Queens had begun. “My uncle died here.”
Adar turned to see what she was staring at. “A lot of people died here. The ground was soaked with blood.”
Elice studied the flagstones, imagining blood running beneath her feet. “Our nations, our families, our magic—all of it is at war.”
“In that, we have everything in common,” Adar said softly.
Silently they walked back into the cool shadows of the tower and up the steps. They opened the doors to Elice’s prison to find Cinder sitting at the table, stitching another overdress, this one turquoise.
As the other woman looked at Elice, her half smile faded. She pushed herself up from the table. “I told you to cover her head with a scarf!”
Adar seemed taken back. “She can pull enough winter to keep herself cool, Cinder.”
“It wasn’t the heat I was worried about.” Cinder shot a glare at him and gestured for Elice to follow her into the bedroom. “We don’t have your dark skin, Idaran. Get me some aloe. Now.”
Adar started after them. “Why? What’s wr—”
“She’s burned, you idiot. Did you not notice how red her skin is?”
“I thought that’s what happened to all clanmen in the heat.”
In response, Cinder slammed the bedroom door in his face.
Elice touched her cheeks, noting the heat lingering in her skin. She flooded it with cold and immediately felt relief. “What’s wrong?”
“The sun has burned your skin,” Cinder said as she dipped some scraps of linen in a bowl of water. She dabbed Elice’s forehead. “It’s going to hurt today and worse tomorrow. And in about a week, you’ll peel.”
Elice touched her rough lips, feeling the tender throb. “I didn’t know the sun could burn me.”
“Everything in Idara burns,” Cinder said bitterly.
Adar leaned over the table, gesturing with his arms. “How many times do I have to apologize? I didn’t know,” he said softly so as not to wake Elice, who still slept in the next room.
“Well,” Cinder huffed. She stabbed her needle in and out of the fabric. “You can’t take her out today. Her skin will burn even more easily than it did yesterday.”
He sat back in exasperation. “But Cinder, she deserves to know the truth.”
“You could just tell her.”
Adar hesitated. “She’d never believe me.”
“And you think my grandmother will make a difference?”
He stared at the closed door, wondering how much longer Elice would sleep. “I’ve taken so much from her, I’d like to give her this.”
Cinder pushed out of her chair and rested her hands on the table. “What exactly do you expect my grandmother to give her?”
Adar and Cinder glared at each. “Maybe nothing, maybe something.”
She pointed a large needle at his head. “Not today. Tomorrow, perhaps.”
“There might not be a tomorrow.” Not if Elice was executed tomorrow. And if she wasn’t, Adar would be. He rubbed at his temples. He’d been up all night trying to figure out how to make her fall in love with him while also convincing her that the Sundering was real. This was the best he could come up with. “It’s today or not at all.”
“She’s been through enough.” Cinder swung her needle like a sword.
The door pushed open. Elice stood there in nothing but her underdress. Which might have sent a half dozen unchaste thoughts through Adar’s head if her face weren’t painfully red and covered in a green slime—another item he could tack to the list under “my fault.”
“I’ll go,” Elice said.
Cinder set the needle on the tabletop and sighed. “The Adrack is no place for a woman already sun-sick.”
Elice’s gaze locked on Adar’s, and he felt a flash of heat from her gaze. “I’ll be ready in a minute,” she said.
Elice shut the door and hurried to the bathroom. Looking in the mirror, she winced at the sight of the dried green goop on her face. She wet a towel and began gently rinsing it off to reveal her tender, shockingly red skin.
Cinder pushed into the bathroom behind her. “You should stay here and rest.”
Elice squinted through the water running in her eyes. “Is sunburn really that dangerous?” Cinder hesitated, confirming what Elice suspected. The other woman had another reason for not wanting her to go. “Just say it.”
Cinder let out a long breath and rested her shoulder against the doorframe. “I know Adar fairly well—I’ve known him since I was a girl. I can’t think of a reason for him to take you there, but he always has a reason for everything he does. His refusing to tell me the reason makes me nervous. Besides, I thought you two hated each other.”
Figuring it would hurt too much, Elice didn’t bother toweling off. “I still hate him, but we sort of have a truce when it’s convenient for me.”
Cinder rolled her eyes and went into the other room. Within seconds she returned, carrying the turquoise overdress. It had a dozen gathers at the waist, emphasizing Elice’s soft curves. This time, she let Cinder drape a scarf around her head and tie it in place, then pin a veil over her face so only her eyes showed. “That will prevent you from burning any worse than you already have. But you must keep your skin cool.”
Back outside the tower, Elice found a net with thousands of fairies holding it. She balked at the sight. “Where are we going?”
“To my father’s people, in the canyons of the Adrack,” Adar answered.
“Can’t we ride Star?”
“Only camels cross the desert, and that would take weeks. This way, we’ll be there in a couple of hours.”
Elice braced herself and climbed inside her net as Adar got in his. The fairies took flight. Soon they left the metropolis of Thanjavar behind and crossed a flat, barren plain. If not for the tans and reds and occasional blacks, Elice might have mistaken it for the frozen wastes of the Winter Queendom.
Finally, she saw red cliffs rising above the surface of the desert. Deep fissures ran through the surface. In the wider ones, Elice caught sight of emerald green and flashes of turquoise. Finally, the cliffs receded, leaving a wide opening. The fairies gently lowered her beside a brilliant-turquoise pool surrounded by a ring of jade. Only when the net touched down and the fairies slipped away did Elice notice the caves honeycombing the cliffs.
It was so green here, a shocking contrast to the rusty cliffs. Her mind put together bits and pieces of everything she’d learned, and she realized she was looking at an orchard. “Trees.” The word slipped out on a breath.
“Date and coconut, but those aren’t doing very well,” Adar said as he moved to stand beside her. Elice moved past him and came up to a tree with crisscrossed bark. She stooped to pick up a furry-looking rock.
“A coconut,” Adar said. “It was in the soup you ate yesterday.”
She wrinkled her nose. “I ate a rock?”
He laughed. “It’s more like a really big nut.”
“Can’t your mother just force the fairies to make the plants grow?”
“You know the Balance better than that. For a jungle to thrive there must also be a desert.” Adar bent down, dug out a chunk of packed soil, and held it in his hands. “My tribesmen have done well enough on our own for centuries. We’ve engineered irrigation systems through all the canyons and beyond, as far as the water will reach. But the water isn’t our biggest problem.” He tossed a chunk of dirt, which broke apart. “Sand and clay and silt do not make for hardy crops.”
He strode on, brushing his hands off on his trousers. “Still, we tribesmen manage to grow date palms and mesquite pods, lima beans and buffalo gourds. We also grow moringa, baobab, acacias, and chaya leaves. Where the canyons are wi
der, we grow wheat and some other grains.”
Above them, Elice noticed a blur of movement. At first she thought it was a fairy, but it was only a bird, though far different from the sea birds she was used to. This one seemed to mirror the landscape, bright blue with a rusty back. It was so beautiful. But then it made a horrible gawking sound at them.
Elice blinked in surprise. “I expected something . . . prettier to come from such a pretty bird.”
“That kind will dive at you, too.”
Elice decided maybe it wasn’t so pretty after all. She explored the shady grove of palm trees, keeping a wide berth from any insects after her experience in the tundra. They found a lizard and a snake, which Adar told her to always avoid. They also found a scorpion, which looked terrifying, but he said they tasted pretty good—once their tails were cut off. Elice found the idea repulsive, but he had thought raw meat repulsive too, so she determined to keep an open mind.
“Why did you bring me here, Adar?” she asked finally. “It can’t be to show me crops.”
He nodded. “Follow me.”
When they left the cover of the grove, the wind picked up, bringing with it a stench like rot and human waste. Elice covered her nose with her hand. They came upon a man using a shovel to open a divot. Adar and Elice watched as water sluiced through a channel built into the canyon walls.
Adar paused when the canyon unexpectedly opened up, revealing a little side canyon with a well-worn path leading down it. Deep inside was a huge mound of rotting scraps and feces. “After the harvest, everyone helps dung the trees.”
Elice grimaced. “It’s one thing to use dung as fuel for a fire. Another to spread it around plants, which you then eat.”
Adar laughed. “Come on, there’s more I want to show you.”
As soon as they passed the canyon, the smell was gone. Breathing deeply in relief, Elice glanced back at the man still working the canals. He opened a second gate and water rushed out.
Passing more crops, she and Adar wove through the winding canyon, which began to narrow. Voices echoed off the walls. Lots of voices. They rounded a corner and her feet stopped of their own accord.